Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1887-04-22

have TO tel you. 1t is u wretchcH story. |
as; you to bear with me and listen to it,"
al don't wish to hear it,n she answered.
coldly.
"But must tell you" he said.
"My train is coming" said Shirley There
it is ut the curve. Good morning, Mr.. Du-
moray"
He laid his unwounded hand upon hcr arm,
not very gently, if the truth must be told
The gentle master was not in n gentle mood
that morning
"You shall not go until you hear me, he
exclaimed. Shirley, if you don't stop
Pip
you'll whatF she retorted.
SHIRLEY, your father was my friend. By
the memory of your father, grant me this
one favor. 1t is the last request may ever
make Of you"
The train stopped, gathered up its passen-
gers, and went on, and Shirley was not
among them. She led tho way into the rail
way waiting room.
swell, what is it you wish to say to meg
she asked Her manner was as indifferent as
if the last night had never been
81 cannot tell you here" he said.
Here or not at all, !" she answered. "Dont
ask me to go back to that wretched house"
$50 be it then" he replied. He had hoped
the Lord knows what he had hoped. 1t
was true all was over now, all the possibili-
ties he had dreamed Of in that brief, mad
hour of the night before. Was that a CEN
fury ago, in some other state of existence?
There was nothing for them now. But if
Shirley only knew his history, only could
understand how he had struggled against
fate, she might be not so hard. There might
be little less suffering for them both. If he
could have her alone, and tell her, she would
be gentler. Nay, he might even hope TO be
forgiven at last. But she had wlled it that
he should speak to her here, and speak he
would.
So there, in the wretched waiting room,
he narrated his miserable story, not abating
one jot. He told her of the fire. of his twin
boys, how strangely he had lost Them how he
had searched the world over for them. He
told her, too, of the devilsh suspicion that
had been set afloat by his wife's mother, and
how at last all men turned against him.
wherever my name was heard" he said,
"that vile SANDER followed me, till it drove
me to desperation. l went away where no
one knew me. changed my name, in hope
to find some peace. was wrong. l should
have stayed there, in that very spot and
faced my enemies, and lived it down, though
I died of starvation"
Eyes, that is what you should have done"
said Shirley
"But did not There was no one to turn
to. l had no friend. | did not know.
came to Linwood. In your happy home |
met your father-and you. 1t was like par
adise to me, after the life had known. I
was drawn to you first by your intellectual
gifts, greater than l had believed &C uld be in
a woman. You liked me, too you know
that You fingered about me with your
light hearted, sunny nature, your sweet,
frank ways, month after month. And then
before l knew it, heaven forgive mel loved
you. How loved YOU even them"
"Yet you deceived me-" said Shirley,
mournfully. Il would have died for you
and you deceived me-"
Il could not tell you that horrible story
how could II If you had known it, you, too,
might have turned against me- That was
exactly what l could not bear. read YOU
like an open book Shirley-you, the soul of
purity and truth. You could not have dis
guised your feelings if you had tried. Tread
that you were beginning TO care for me-
knew it, and the knowledge was very sweet
to me. Forgive me, Shirley, that 1 tell you
of it now"
81 can forgive anything in n friend. !
think but want of frankness," she replied in
a dull tone.
He WINGED little and was silent. Pres
emily he went on:
Il thought when I came to Lnwood that ]
had overcome the weakness, the passionate
ness of my boyhood. So had-so it would
have been if l had never seen you. All was
under my feet, thought. But met YOU
Then for the second time in my life / ran
away. Only there / was weak; only there
feared to trust myself In all else tried to
be what you thought me. / suppose a man
may be forgiven for being human, Shirley"
He paused She did not speak. She was
hurt to the soul He continued, speaking in
low, hurried tone:
"Ever since left you, there is not day or
a night that | have not thought of you. |
have dreamed what life might have been to
me had | been free. As it was, YOU have
been like n star to me. | have been true to
to you in every word and thought have
striven to keep myself pure and high in
thought, to make my life helpful to others
Then, if ever the time was when | should be
free, though it were fifty years, could look
honestly into your dear eyes and tell you-I
have come to lay my heart at your feet. And
SO | would have come"
Then there was silence. Nothing broke it
save the ticking Of the clock in the little sta
ton At last the master said:
Il am going now, Shirley Good-by"
She held out her hand it was death cold
81 think you have broken my heart" she
said "but forgive you"
That was their parting